


Careful Casting

by BoatsandTrains



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Angel Castiel, Body Swap, Demon Dean, Demon Sam Winchester, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining Castiel, Romance, mermaid jess, monster/human/hunter universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-18 13:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4708052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoatsandTrains/pseuds/BoatsandTrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is good at what he does, works hard for his positive marks at one of the best mixed Magic Universities in  the world. In fact, hes set to pass with flying colors in one of his casting classes using a very impressive Body Transfer potion. Or at least, that was his plan before his best friend, Dean Winchester breaks the container and effectively lands them in one another's bodies. Now he has to figure out how to reverse it as quickly and quietly as possible and hope Dean doesn't find out anything Cas would rather stay secret.</p><p>Namely that hes been in love with the Demon nearly as long as hes known him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  
“Please tell me what’s happening is not actually happening.” Dean stands stock still as the air clears of the violet smoke.

“By that, you mean lie. As in lie and say you are not an infuriating idiot who does not listen to me and now is in my body.” Cas snapped.

“It- it wasn’t like its my fault! Who just makes these spells and leaves them sitting around?!-”

“Someone who when they say ‘be careful’ _means_ it!” The older boy waved his hand, frustration saturating his bones.

They bicker back and forth only it isn’t Dean as Dean or Cas as Cas. There is something completely alien about shouting at your own face.

Being in Deans body is strange and foreign, taller than his own, broader. Dean walks and talks different, and Cas can feel that. Hear the way his new tongue forms words and different shape of sound than his own come out naturally.

“We have to tell Mr.Singer.” Cas sighs, rubbing his new face.

“What? Hell no- do you / _WANT_ / to be laughed at for the rest of the year? We can figure this out- you’ve got to have some other counter something something laying around.” Dean looks around Cas’ room like the answer is just sitting out in the open.

“A body transfer spell is hard to make, Dean.” Cas grits,“ I spent the better part of a semester making that _one_ vial for my casting class. I didn’t exactly predict you throwing things at me-”

“I said ‘heads up’– that’s universal language for ‘catch this’. You know what, that’s the last time I try to look out for you. It’s not like people usually work on this stuff in their rooms- Cas. There’s a _lab_.” Somehow even hearing his voice as Dean sounds different. He even uses Castiel's body in a way that is still somehow 'Dean’.

“If we tell Mr.Singer, maybe he can reverse this. Get our bodies back before anyone else notices.”

“Bobby will tell Ellen and Ellen will tell Jo and Jo will tell everyone. I really just don’t-” dean flustered.

“You are concerned you’ll be made fun of because you were unable to block it?” Cas raised a brow.

“I don’t keep my deflect up aroun– okay, you know what? Lesson learned. You’re a menace and in the future I’ll just make sure to remember you can curse and charm or– 'body swap’ me-” Dean jabbed Castiel’s finger into his own chest.

“That is not what I meant,” though the mention that Dean purposely removed his Deflect, a natural barrier for a demon, around Cas made him feel strange,“ I mean only that I don’t see why that is shameful.”

“You’re the nerdy clutz and I’m the demon that let a spell hit me. Do the math- I will seriously kill you if Jo and Victor get wind of this.” Dean huffed, arms crossing.

Castiel groaned, falling onto the corner of the bed.  
“At the very least, we should ask Sam.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“What? Why? He’s the best caster we know that isn’t a teacher.” Green eyes squinted.

“First of all, don’t do that with my face. I don’t want the early onset wrinkles your working with, and second of all– Sam and Jess are like- a package deal and Jess is just as much of a gossip whore as Jo. No.” Dean paced.

“We have to Do something, Dean. I can not pretend to be you and you can not pretend to be me. Everyone else will notice.” He watched his body make laps around the room.

“I can totally pretend to be you. You though, are a shitty liar.” Dean snorted, stopping in front of him. “How long would a reverse take to make?”

“At least a month. And I’ll have you know that’s not true, I deceived both you and your brother-”

“It’s easy to trick people you don’t know, Cas. And it’s not like there are a lot of 'you’ people walking around let alone on campus.”

“I am still human.” Cas frowned.

“No not really. That’s even a better point. You white lied.” The older Winchester rolled his eyes.

“Saying ’ I am Dean Winchester’ is a white lie too.” Cas scoffed.

“Okay so it’s settled. We just play our roles and you fix this in like 2 weeks.” He clapped his hands, bed jumping when dean threw Castiels body onto the mattress.

“I agreed to exactly zero of this. Not to mention how will we do class- I will not let you ruin my GPA because you know nothing about herbs or aura control. And there is no way I can do any of your monstromology courses. I can’t /be/ a demon.” Cas paused, focusing really hard for a moment to see if he could move anything in the room. “No. Nothing.”

“Oh.” The other boy sat up, “Crap. Maybe we do need Sam.” Dean looked at Cas for a minute before blinking and revealing dark black eyes. “It really was just bodies. This….really bites.”

“I hate you.” Castiel hissed.

“You love me,” Dean grins back with his face.

“if I could smite you, I would.”

“Is that a euphemism for something, Cas?”

To say Cas’ face colored is a understatement.

“Not so angelic now, are-”

“Dean that’s just half my ancestors genetic makeup and I was not making 'euphemis–”

The knock on the door makes them jump, knob turning and opening.

“Hey- cool, I knew you’d be here. I was lookn for you, man. Lisa was asking around for you.” Victor, Deans roommate, poked his head in. “Hey Cas.”

Quickly Dean and Cas exchange mildly panicked looks, before Dean clears his throat and solemnly says, “Hello, Victor.”

In a voice that, while his, he glares at.

Victor shrugs it off, “Come on, man. We’re supposed to help Ash out with that keg.”

Keg? Cas looks back at dean, then Victor.

“Okay. Yea, cool…bro..?” Internally he winces and Victor looks at him funny.

“You alright? Did I… Interrupt you guys with somethin?”

“No. I would like to go.” Dean drones robotically, making Victor shake his head.

“Whatever, I’ll be down stairs. Weirdos.”

The door closes and Cas reaches over and punches Dean. “Oh my god! I do /not/ speak that way. I’m not CPO3PO or whatever-”

“Ow.” Dean scoffs, rubbing his arm,“ first of all- it’s c-3po, and second of all maybe you’re right. Should have gone with a Data/Spock combo- but it was on the spot and who the hell are you to critique – ’…bro?’. Really, Cas? Have I EVERRR used 'bro’??”

“I panicked!!” Cas waved his hands,“ this is your fault- there is no way to fool all of our friends. We need to–”

“Lost your bravado so fast mr. I-deceived-you-and-sammy-blah blah— OW–”

Castiel hits him again groaning.

“I’m staying with you. I won’t let you get into trouble as me– I mean I’m fine merchandise and no offense to you Cas- but you couldn’t even hold a glass vial of swapping spell.” Dean barks a laugh as he winces when Cas punches him again, muttering worth it.

“On the bright side- you get to watch over me in your body too. Well be okay, alright? You and Sam and your big brains can do this.”

Cas already has a headache. It’s possible this is the better thing. He doesn’t think Bobby would say anything aside from scolding and teasing, but if the school found out he was doing complicated spell casting in the dorms on campus- he could get into a lot of trouble.

Another rueful stink eye at Dean who’s wearing his face doesn’t help the situation, and he slumps with a sigh.

“That’s my boy,” dean slapped Cas’ shoulder,“ we got this.”

  
—–

“We do not got this.” Cas hissed, looking down at dean. The fact he’s now taller and talking to his own face isn’t any less weirder.

People are filling up Ashes place and Cas is keeping to deans side with a red punch cup.

“I do not know all the people that keep saying hi to 'you’.” Cas whispers before nodding and smiling awkwardly at a petite blonde girl and her friends who wave when they see him.

“Relax. If anyone walks up, I’ll let you know.” The other man down his drink.

“This is ridiculous and I feel like I’m a diplomat and you are the assistant that reminds me of all the profiles of everyone that approaches me.” Cas frowns.

“Cas-”

“Hey bitches,” Charlie beams, Jo not far behind her,“ God,Cas, how did Dean get you to leave your hole for a party?”

Jo is busy eyeing Cas– Cas who is Dean and clearly she is dissecting this and oh god- this is not going to–

“Bribery. Though he would have found another way, I’m sure.” Dean says, voice even and not computery thank god.

It sounds convincing enough to him.

“Oh yea? What did you offer? I may need that trick,” the red head grins.

This is not good.

——

“What did you tell her to get her off?” Cas dragged Dean away, dean stumbling disgruntled with his now smaller easier to move body. It’s been two hours since they got here and started dodging their friends questions and inadvertently got separated– namely because the most annoying thing about being Dean is the amount of attention he is given at any one time for his genitals.

No. He doesn’t analyze why that bothers him so much.

“Told her we were making a bet, argued about something stupid about who has it easier and now we’re pretending to be each other. Worked like a charm.” Dean grinned, polishing another cup.

“You are– uncomfortably good at deception.” Cas frowned only to get Dean smacking him.

“I told you not to do that. That’s my face you’re setting up for early onset aging you ass.”

“I am tired of being felt up.” Cas sighed, reaching over and taking the drinking cup from Deans hand.

“Really? Dude,Who felt me up?” The demon looked around.

“I believe out problem is a little bit more important than superfici–”

  
“Hey- Cas.” Jo’s arms looped into his body’s arm, Dean looking at Cas and then Jo as she studied them.

For a odd moment neither knew who she was talking to and if freakishly she could tell.

“Hello.” Dean spoke, less robotic than before.

“Is it okay if I borrow him, Dean?” Her eyelashes bat and Cas feels anxiety creep over.

Why is she borrowing him? It’s not him - it’s Dean-

“Actually maybe-”

“Dean don’t be over protective,” Jo rolled her eyes tugging Dean-him away.

“Yeah /Dean/–” dean smirks, earning a suspicious squint from Jo as they disappear.

  
—

“So- Cas.” Jo says finally, blonde hair brushed to the side once they get far enough away.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” Dean smiles.

“Right… That acting thing… Let’s not. It’s weird. So you and Dean have been pretty close recently.” She crossed her arms, and now the heat is on.

Fuck, what is this? He should have stuck with Cas.

“We’re best friends.” And now dean frowns, because he can- Cas is screwed for old man face anyway.

“Did he say that?” Jo asked, face softening in a way that is utterly creepy to Dean. Cas gets soft Jo and Dean gets the Jo that breaks his nose for one time laughing at her hair cut when they were kids? What the fuck?

“What? Well- I mean–” Dean has told Cas that right? Cas knows he’s important. He’s got to have at least told Cas once that he’s Deans best friend.

Jo’s hand is suddenly on his elbows, fragile and face careful. It’s all sorts of freaking Dean out and she seems to misread Deans panic on Cas’ face.

“Cas…. Did you tell Dean?”

The world halts. Tell him?

“Tell Dean….what?”


	2. Chapter 2

When Dean gets back, it’s without Jo and a quick step. He halts in front of Cas looking up at him, mouth open to speak before he seems to think better of it.

“I need a drink.” The demon grunts and starts to walk away before turning back and grabbing Cas’ hand, “I’m not leaving you. Come on.”

All Cas can think about is Jo and what could she have done? Castiel doesn’t particularly keep secrets, not from Dean. His linage had been something he was taught to not talk about, but that was maybe all he really ‘lied’ about. Both Winchesters knew of that by now, so then what?

The only other thing Jo could pester about would …. Well, the fact she’s been pressuring him to try and get Dean's attention. And God, he hopes that isn’t what this is about. 

However, Dean has got his shoulders tight, pouring shots into glasses with Ash while Castiel hovers, trying to not make eye contact with any of these people that surely would jump him in Dean’s body.

After the fourth or fifth tequila toss, Dean is starting to look frustrated and gives him one as well.

He watches the shots get thrown back, salt and lime and drunk cheering. The alcohol affects him differently in Dean’s body. He assumes the frustration his friend may be having is around the same reason.

“Damn Cas- you put those away-” he hears someone tell Dean, who grunts back.

Castiel on the other hand, feels relatively good. His fingers are tingling and his face feels warm.

It’s funny that tonight, Castiel– that is, _his body so really it’s still Dean_ – is the one who has everyone’s attention.

People are still talking to him- talking to who they think is Dean. But the crowd around the counter is all about the Cas everyone else sees.

After a steady intake of the growing sound, Cas thinks he needs water for his face and slips away, leaving Dean to the chanting in the kitchen area. He climbs stairs and passes various couples chatting and making out to get to the restroom, shutting the door behind him before leaning over the sink and splashing his face. His eyes catch though, leaving him looking at Dean’s face in the mirror. Water drips off Dean's eyelashes and curve till they fall from his cheek bones, racing down.

At first, it’s startling. Cas hasn’t spent a lot of time really analyzing that he is now his best friend. Only the immediate obviousness of it has settled in. Curiously, he rubs Dean’s palm, wider than his own, over the shadow along his jaw. Feels the grain against his skin, thinking about the paradox of it all. He wrinkles his brows and scrunches Dean’s nose, laughing a little at himself the way only an amused drunk looking in a mirror might.

No one can stop him now. He can curse Dean out of his youth now and get his vengeance, wrinkles and all–

Fingers trace Dean’s chin and nose, his collar over his shirt, over Dean’s cheekbones, and even though this is him- and he’s touching technically his own body now- and even with Dean’s hands and not his own– his heart jumps.

Hesitating at Dean’s mouth, his throat suddenly dry.

The tingling in his fingertips now feels hot, holding his breath as he presses and follows the curve of Dean’s lower lip. His other hand dragging in Dean’s hair, curious to what that feels like. His eyes drag over the mirror, more intent in detail, the way Dean’s mouth parts, the sweep of long lashes and boyish bone structure. The only thing not right are the eyes, he sees too much of himself there unfortunately, but it’s easy to ignore when he licks the bow of his lip. Cas is so busy being distracted by watching the individual acts that when he gets his alcohol riddled brain refocused and sees his face, he pulls away quickly, grabbing the porcelain sink.

Dean’s face– his face– now pink, hair a mess.

He looks like he came in here for something else besides the faucet. Dean’s skin has a color now that brings his freckles out, stark to his skin, eyes dark and hard to look at, so Castiel instead looks at his hands and groans.

It was a terrible idea. And Dean’s body for some reason reacts to it. Though it’s unfair to say Dean's body, it’s Castiel that reacted, blood guiltily rushing where it has no business. This is a breach of some sort of friend code of trust, he’s sure of it, especially when he feels the soft buzzing heat running low in him.

It’s bizarre to think he had watched Dean wrap lips around shot glass after shot glass downstairs and while normally he would be fixated on Dean’s mouth, he hadn’t. Because it’s him, his body and technically his mouth. Visually everything is confusing. Between that and this mirror, even feeling the buzz in his system that he knows toys with his judgement, he knows there is something to that.

Dean took his hand after Jo- his hand as his body, and that had felt like something.  _That_  had stirred him. Because even if visually it’s strange and it’s him- that contact he knows belongs to the other man.

Contact, he’s now thinking, is going to become a issue.

For a absolutely terrifying moment, he thinks about how if merely touching Deans mouth is compromising what are they going to do for the next couple weeks till this gets fixed?

The issue of facilities has not appeared but it quite literally is a matter of time-

And followed almost immediately by the fact he’ll have to see– _touch_ – Dean as a basic form of care for the body–

Dean has his body.

Dean will see him naked, will touch his body naked just the same.

His mild panic, however, is cut off when the door swings open and a burly and very drunk Lycan stumbles in.

—–

“No wonder you don’t like parties- by the time you’re happy everyone else is vomiting.” Dean slurs, a arm thrown around Cas’ now higher shoulder, which in of itself is amusing as they stumble for home.

Clearly the demon hasn’t adjusted to being the smaller of the two of them.

”The angelic carry over,“ Castiel hums, a easy smile as his hand carefully held the hem of the back Dean’s shirt, “ My body breaks down and repairs most substances, just as foreign particles in the body. It natura–naturally—” Cas pauses, taking a deep breath as he nearly giggles at the street lights swimming above him,“ Oh my / _god_ /. It’s strange not to feel like I have feet. You - prefer your drinking level?”

Which is much more lax, Cas thinks. Normally he can drink but with his real body maybe it took like 4 times the amount of alcohol Dean’s does. And Dean has a tolerance above humans.

“It would have made that experience so much easier,” Dean groaned, running a hand through his hair which was decidedly not really his hair, considering it stood on end in what ever direction he tugged it.

Cas doesn’t really know what Dean’s talking about when they get to his dorm, deciding it is drunk rambling as they flop in and onto his mattress.

“Dean?” Cas grumbles, eyes closed as he listens to the fabric on the bed move around blindly where the other man is getting comfortable.

“Hm?”

“What did Jo want, earlier?” Lazily he opened his eyes, searching for his own to look back.

Dean doesn’t answer, Cas assumes he’s fallen asleep and sighs, closing his eyes to join him.

There’s no need to pursue what was hopefully nothing.  
  


 

* * *

 

 

The words “I need to piss” wake Castiel up like a fire alarm. 

Immediately his now green eyes are flashing open, blindly moving to sit up just as Dean is maneuvering over him the morning light.

“No!” His voice croaks with the first use of the day with the taste of syrup and sour stale beer. Thank god there’s no hangover.

“Cas… Body says empty the tank. I gotta listen. Relax-”

“I don’t feel-”  
“Cas, your bladder is yelling at me right now. I’ll just- close my eyes or whatever. Please-”  
“Dean.”  
“Cas.”

About 5 minutes of back and forth and debate about how to handle, Cas hovers outside the door repeating to Dean to not look.  
  
He doesn’t question why this is such a big deal. Cas knows he shouldn’t care and that this is just a inconvenience. It’s a juvenile worry at best.

When the door opens, Dean looks up at him, grumpy, passing Cas to find clothes.

“What about showers? Cause I can tell you I don’t want to smell rank, and I equally don’t want to slip and fall and break your skull open blind folded in the shower.” He says, pulling out one of Cas’ shirts and making a face. “Is this a egg? Cas, why do you have a egg shirt?”

“I’ll do it.” The older boy tries not to stutter, hands squeezing fingers as he says it.

Dead stares, Castiel’s own blue eyes looking back at him. “Do what?”

“We’ll just- take our showers and take care of our own hygiene and that means minimal exposure to awkward situatio–”

“You mean…Shower together? I can’t take a leak but this is okay with you?” Dean’s eyebrow raised.

“You said blindfolded. But this way, if the actual vessel is eyes closed- the one whose eyes are open is merely taking and looking at themselves and-”

The more he tries to explain the more it feels he is transparent. That is to say, that he can’t let his mind compute having Dean wash him intimately and at least this way he can mentally tell himself Dean hasn’t touched or seen him and once this spell is over they can pretend it never happened.

“Is it the Angel blood thing that’s making you so paranoid about me doing anything?” The demon clicked his tongue, starting to put on the very egg shirt he was perplexed by before.

“I- Yes?” He lies. Though, as they’ve discussed, it’s a white lie. “Maybe?”

Dean parts his lips, probably ready to myth this theory because even he knows it is ridiculous and Castiel can’t really expect privacy when Dean is in HIS body.

“Okay.” The other man says.

“Okay?” Cas repeats dumbly, doesn’t believe his ears. He also doesn’t want to question it. Any other time Dean would call his bullshit.

“Yea. I was going to call Sam over so we can bust this thing open. Do you want to do this now? Or after?” The demon abandoned his effort of dressing, standing in just the shirt and boxers.

At that, he knows he colors. And strangely enough, Dean ignores it.

“Just a quick rinse,” his mouth feels dry.

“Sure.” Dean pulls the shirt off and it’s the first time he feels himself react to the image of his own body, though it’s strange. Like a abstract mirror.

It’s in the little actions, the tug of fabric, and way his body stands and how Dean runs a hand over the stubble on his jaw. They all feel like Dean even though the body is Castiel.

“Well? Come on you prude. Do we need your kinky blindfold-”

“Shut up, you ass.” Castiel snaped out of the daze he had fallen into, pulling the ACDC shirt off his body and setting it down carefully.

Down to both boxers, they start the shower and nerves start to fill him up.

“I’ll close my eyes.” Dean grumbles, somehow still not saying how ‘stupid’ this all is.

It turns into them deciding to take turns, Dean being much quieter and agreeable then he could have hoped.

The demon keeps his eyes closed and they both slip out of what’s left of their clothing.

“If my eyes are closed, how do I know you’re not the one looking at my goods?” Dean’s tone barely hides a smirk.

“I’m /not/.” The Angel hissed back, water hitting them under the spray as he pointedly did not look down.

“Whatever, pervert. Lather me up. Or you up? Whatever. Cleanse me, Angel.” Dean held his arms up, eyes closed, smug smile.

“Pet names are highly inappropriate given the situation, Dean.” Cas drolled, face hot as he frowned, pouring soap onto a wash cloth.

“You like it. Bet my bottom dollar you’re blushing too.”

“Most certainly not, turn around.” He pushed Dean, ignoring how the other man laughed.

With a deep breath he held his body by the juncture of his shoulder and neck, running the soapy cloth over his back.

Contact, though, was not properly thought about. Both of them let out a small gasp, Dean’s hand tightening and Cas pulling back like he touched a furnace.

“You good?” Dean asks, glancing back at him, eyes open, and maybe to Cas’ imagination, voice rougher. Did his voice always sound like that?

“Y-yes. Just-”

“Werid.”

“Yes. Close your eyes.” He breathes. Dean shrugs and looks back at the tile, obeying.

The next touch is hesitant. Slowly lathering, Dean humming.

“Yer tense,”

“Me you, or you me?”

“Wha- no, I mean this body. You should chill out more.” He grunts, a sigh following when Castiel pushed his thumbs into circles,“ Yea. That’s good.”

It’s strange to give 'himself’ this massage, Dean slumping forward like jello against the tile as his hands migrated. Water washes soap away, his own breath slow, revealing the freckles on his hands- on Dean’s hands. Light across the tops of knuckles.  
It stills him. Castiels complexion is soft, undertones olive and completely different from the gold of Deans sun bathed skin.

This is what it would look like, to see Deans hands touch him. Possibly the only time and circumstance. Even though it is him, these are the demons hands.

“Cas?”

Castiel looked back, blinking away the stirring heat and unsettled jump in his chest.

“Yes. Sorry.” He says, lowering, briefly lathering over his back side- ignoring Dean’s half Yelp, half cough, before turning his friend around.

His gaze tries to stay neutral and clinical but this situation is flustering. There’s a unavoidable awkwardness, a rush of arousal he thought would be avoided, considering it is merely himself he is looking at. Something very out of body is happening to him. And apparently, he’s not alone, hearing a soft hitch of breath.

Looking up, he sees his blue eyes open, watching him through lowered lashes. His but not him. The right color but somehow the feel is so much different.

And he’s starring back, both quiet, the demons quick lewd tongue not making a sound. Merely watching Castiel who’s hands are still from spreading soap over his bodys thighs.

The water runs, his peripheral dares to let him think if he were to look, his body is reacting. Dean is reacting, filling. Cock twitching between his legs despite how hard he’s trying not too, how both of them seem to be trying to avoid this situation.

But his friend closes his eyes and looks away, the tension remains, but it’s enough for Cas to know this is something they’re probably never going to talk about. It is not as though anything has truly happened.

He knows Dean likes contact. That is all there is.

Quickly he finishes, letting Dean shift back under the shower head, exchanging the wash cloth as Castiel turned his own back. Eyes closed, he imagines he’s somewhere else. They haven’t spoken a word, and as soon as he feels Dean’s hands on him, he doesn’t trust himself to.

“You alright?”

“Yes.” Castiel breathes, in through the nose out through the mouth. His body’s hands are soft. Softer than he thought they were, softer than the callouses he knows Deans real hands have.

“Weird, right?” Dean behind him laughs a little, a slight anxiousness buried there.

“Yes,” he agrees, heart hammering when soapy hands run passed his sides, Dean less willing to dwell on any one area.

Castiel understands and is grateful. With his eyes closed, hands running over his front and legs, it’s easy to forget they are in different bodies.

What has he done?


End file.
